Lullaby of the Wicked
by aloistrancing
Summary: Strange things have been happening in London, and it's Ciel Phantomhive's job to get to the bottom of it. Whilst investigating the case, he crosses paths with a suspicious girl; one of which just might be able to help him find the missing pieces to this puzzle, but also, of which completely turns his world upside down.
1. Caged Songbird

The girl sat on the ground as she leaned against the cold stone walls in the pitch black room. It was like she was some princess in a twisted fairytale, locked underneath a church with several doors standing between her and the outside world. As for why she was imprisoned there in the first place, she didn't know. Her mind was in shambles; an almost blank canvas that held only small smudges of where one would begin to paint a picture, but did not follow through. She could only remember so much...

One thing she held very clearly in her memory was a song. She'd hum the lovely tune softly to herself every waking moment; whether she did it for the pleasure or so that she wouldn't forget it was beyond even her own knowledge. She lulled the melody in a gentle voice as she ran her frail fingers across the ice cold ground.

Just then, a small patch of light appeared from the other side of the cell door. A guard could be seen holding a dimly lit candle and a tray of food. "It's dinner time, witch." He muttered as he roughly dropped the tray to the ground and kicked it underneath the door, causing the food to go everywhere.

The girl didn't even flinch at the crash of the tray, nor did she pay any mind to the guard himself. She simply sat there, humming her song like she was lost in a daze.

The guard scoffed as he narrowed his eyes at her. "Heh, it seems you've finally lost it, huh? How many years has it been? Over a hundred at least, right? Pathetic. Absolutely _pathetic_."

Still, she showed no reaction and continued to faintly croon her song.

"It's been ten years since I first started workin' here, and you're still singin' that same damned song." The guard huffed, "Give it a rest, will ya? The others say you've been singin' that song ever since you were put in here." He then took a step forward as a smirk claimed his lips. "They say it's the song your mum used to sing to ya."

The girl immediately grew silent.

"What? Did I strike a ner-"

Before the guard could even comprehend what was happening, she was already in front of him. She had reached her arm through the bars as she grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and glared at him.

This only made his grin widen as he stared into the girl's piercing eyes. "So it _is_ true, then."

Now that the girl could be seen by the glow of the candle, the guard could clearly make out her appearance. She had long silky hair that was as white as snow, and eyes the color of blood. She had pale milky skin and a beautiful doll-like face. This combination in an appearance was what the members of the church used to identify the 'marked' ones. Albino skin, frosty white hair, and red eyes- cursed souls, or so they believed. While the whole 'cursed' thing is questionable, it _was_ true that beings with this appearance were treated less than human. They were shunned by remotely everyone in this day and age.

He chuckled darkly as his muddy eyes trailed over her porcelain features, "It's a pity she had to go and die, abandoning her only daughter." This man was despicable. Truly, genuinely despicable. She could have killed him immediately upon contact if she had wanted to; he was lucky to even be alive right now. Looks like he's really pushing said luck.

An audible sigh emitted past her rose petal lips as she released her grip on him, turning her back to him and speaking for the first time in _decades_. "Fuck off."

The man's eyes widened, kind of taken aback by her actually speaking up. "You little-"

She swiftly yet gracefully spun around, making eye contact with the guard as she spoke with venom in her otherwise quiet, apathetic voice. "Do I need to repeat myself? Do you not understand the English language? Are you an idiot?" Though her hues were normally a vibrant crimson, they were currently masked fully in black; shining an ebony as dark as the sky on the night of a new moon. It was a sight that could make even a demon shudder; completely indescribable.

Just the mere glance of the girl made the guard fall to his knees, cowering in fear as he let out a desperate yelp like an whiny dog. He quickly scrambled to get back on his feet as he then ran back up the staircase, taking the girl's only source of light with him.

To be honest, she didn't know why she became so upset over the mention of her mother. She had not seen that woman in centuries, nor did she really even get to know her. Her only memories of the woman were seeing her sick in bed, living out her remaining days in the most pitiful state possible. She was so young back then, and the only moments she was allowed to see her mother were always brief. She was raised by the maids; they were more of a family to her than her _actual_ one.

But then again, all of her memories were vague. Maybe she _did_ actually get to know her mother and was close with her. As for how this could slip her mind, she was unaware. It seemed like everything was slipping her mind these days... She can't even recall her own name, and it doesn't help that none of the members of the church even know it either. She was captured and caged centuries ago; her name was never recorded, so even if she wanted to ask the guards, the priest, or the nuns what it was, not a single one of them would be able to answer. It was no use.

Now, you're probably wondering why she just accepts this type of life- why she doesn't try to escape and just remains the churches prisoner- well, that's not exactly the case.

She's tried numerous times to escape; all of which were obviously in vain. The only exit available was the barred door, however, it's been sealed by some kind of poison. It's like a mixture of salt, crumbled sage, holy water, and god-knows what else- and it's extremely deadly to beings like her. They call it "Nabaniud." She cannot cross any path that's been doused with Nabaniud; just being near the stuff gives her a headache.

A breath slipped through her pastel lips and she hung her head low, returning to her previous position in the corner of her dark, spacious cell. She hugged her knees, resting her forehead against them as her eyes came to a tired close.

How much longer? How much longer did she have to live in this hellish existence? Another day's passed by, people have come and gone, but she's still here. Still here, still humming her song.


	2. Crucifixion

**A/N: This chapter takes place in the past- when our heroine was first imprisoned.**

* * *

She woke up to pure darkness and a throbbing head. The girl felt the area around her to figure out where she was, and was given her disappointing answer when she felt her hands come into contact with a wooden floor and wooden bars that kept her within a restricted area.

The air was chilled and thick.

Due to the vague hints the aura of the room gave off, she concluded that she must be in a basement. _The church's basement_.

She rose a hand above her head to see if there was room to stand, only to discover that there wasn't. Her breathing quickened and her heart raced as she began to violently kick the bars that caged her, immediately breaking down the poorly built barrier as she then crawled through the hole. Her knees and the palms of her hands instantly came into contact with a cold stone floor, confirming that she was in fact in the church's basement. She knew this place all too well.

"Hey, what's all the ruckus down there?!" A voice angrily called out in the distance, seemingly growing closer with every syllable.

The girl jolted backwards, utterly startled by the sudden outburst.

It was nearly pitch black, the only source of visibility being a candle with a faint flame emitting the smallest bit of light.

The man who had previously shouted down the staircase was now standing in front of a metal barred door of the basement with a lantern in hand. He held the light to the doorway, squinting his eyes so he could peer into the room.

She recognized this man; he was one of the volunteers working at the church, he assisted in keeping the building clean and watching over the kids from the orphanage when they were taken outside to play. _Victor Auber_.

"Mister Auber!" She called out, quickly scrambling to her feet as she then ran over to the cellar door. "Mister Auber, I somehow got locked down here and-"

"HEAVENS, SHE'S AWAKE!" He screeched, nearly deafening the poor girl. His face had paled drastically as he backed away, dropping his lantern on the ground; an expression of shock so evidently forming across his features. "FATHER! FATHER, COME HERE!" He continued to shout, sprinting up the staircase and leaving the girl all alone once again.

What was she to make of that display? She was confused, to say the least. Doesn't help that she can't remember a single damned thing; the immense ache of her head signaled that perhaps some trauma was the cause of this amnesia. Speaking of which, that headache was really starting to make her feel dizzy.

She reached a single hand up to her head, her fingers instantly coming into contact with damp and sticky hair. She hastily jerked her hand away and knelt down to stick her wrist through the metal bars and beside the lantern, trying to examine just what was in her hair.

"Blood..." She breathed, staring in awe at the crimson substance that covered her frail digits.

Just then, the priest and a few other church members came down the stairs; all with candles in hands that perfectly illuminated the darkness of the room.

"Father!" She choked out, tears burning behind her eyes as she stood up and held her hand out. "I don't know what happened, but my head is bleeding and-"

"Silence, my child." He interrupted in his usual calm, soothing voice. "You will be alright." He then held out a small glass, gesturing for her to take it. "Drink this."

Her brows furrowed in confusion as she tilted her head ever so slightly, a small amount of tears falling from her glistening orbs and rolling down her porcelain cheeks. "Why am I in here?" She asked as she took the cup from his hands and did as instructed, fully drinking its contents.

"You're marked, my child. Though it pains me to have to do this, it's in His will. We all deserve forgiveness, even you; this is how you'll receive it." His eyes, much like all of the other church members that were currently present, were void of any humanly emotions; there was no sympathy, guilt, or sadness in them. There was nothing at all.

The girl's eyelids grew heavy and her mind went blank, causing her to drop the glass to the ground, shattering it into several sharp fragments. Much like the cup, her body collapsed to the floor; drool slipping out the corners of her mouth and onto the floor.

 _What was happening?_

Her body was completely numb and her vision began to fade.

"Drugs are finally kicking in." One of the other church members noted, turning to face the priest.

A sigh escaped the old man's lips as he nodded his head. "We'll need to be quick. She'll recover in thirty minutes flat; that was the smallest dosage possible."

Once she regained consciousness, she was already beaten half to death. The small girl sat on a stage, tied to a cross and lights flashed on her.

"...cursed. We didn't really realize how severe it was until recently. We decided with that, and the fact that she assisted in the demon's escape, that _this_ would be the best use. _This_ is how He will forgive us for harboring and caring for such vile creatures. Now... who's next?"

The hands flew up and a line quickly formed. Men and women wielding different weapons approached the girl and began swinging, punching, kicking, biting- you name it. The people were soon stopped due to the fact that the girl's body couldn't handle any more.

"We won't be able to get you all today. She will heal up, and you all can come back in a week." A tall man spoke, money nearly spilling out of his pockets.

Grabbed by her matted and filthy hair, the girl was untied and taken back to the basement. She lied on the cold ground in a puddle of her own blood, staring into the darkness and moaning in pain.

After hours of agony, she finally managed to drift off to sleep; though, it was a rather restless slumber. Pain and terrorizing dreams woke her in the night countless times, yet still, she could not remember a single thing as to why she was stuck in this situation in the first place.

The man from before stated that she had assisted in a demon's escape..? Although she did not hear the first part of what he was saying, she very distinctly remembers that much. But still, she couldn't remember anything... Why couldn't she remember anything?!

She was rotting down here; becoming a hollow shell of her former self. Merely existing.

The demon. Whoever the demon was, was her key to remembering just _who_ the hell she is and what she did to deserve these torture sessions.

She was pulled away from her thoughts as she fell into a coughing fit, blood shooting past her lips and into the palms of her hands as her expression contorted in pain. Hot tears streamed down her face as she leaned her small frame against the cold basement walls, her eyes coming to a tired close. A heavy sigh slipped past her pale lips as she tried once more to fall asleep.

"...Tomorrow."


End file.
